


To Meet a King

by hedgehog_in_221B



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehog_in_221B/pseuds/hedgehog_in_221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When traveling with Thorin and Company, the reader makes the acquaintance of King Thranduil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While going through Mirkwood on the quest for Erebor, the Company and the reader get captured by wood elves. The reader speaks with the Elvenking and sings a lullaby to the imprisoned dwarves with an unexpected listener.

   Finding Bilbo was really the only thing on your mind. You passed tree after tree hunting for him, wishing he wasn't as small as he was. Hobbits could be very problematic when it was entirely inconvenient. As you searched, you heard a commotion coming from the direction in which you'd left the rest of the Company. You stopped, feeling as if you were being pulled in two separate directions. One the one hand, you desperately wanted to find your hobbit friend. After all, he wasn't a bad little fellow and was actually quite good at getting you and the rest of the Company out of trouble. On the other hand, he was nowhere to be found and it sounded as if those dwarves had stumbled upon something other than spiders. You hoped that Bilbo would be alright on his own for a bit. He'd done well enough in the goblin tunnels of the Misty Mountains. With hope in mind, you dashed off in the direction you'd come, pulling your sword from it's sheath and holding it high. You ran back to them, but it seemed ill-timed. As soon as you broke through into the small clearing they were in, you saw that the dwarves were completely surrounded and had been disarmed by other elves, wood elves as it were. You lowered your weapon immediately, trusting your kin more than the dwarves did. Unfortunately for you, these elves didn't trust you and they promptly pointed their arrows in your direction. With a roll of your eyes and a sigh, you sheathed your weapon and put your hands up. You were soon removed of your sword, throwing knives, empty quiver, and bow in the blink of an eye. To be honest, you felt a bit naked without the familiar weight of your weapons on your person. But no matter, there wasn't time to dwell on it. A blond elf came your way. He was tall and young, though clearly the leader of the others.

   “Who are you? And what are you doing with these dwarves?” he asked in Elvish.

   “I am Y/N of Rivendell. They are my traveling companions,” you replied. He scoffed.

   “Traveling companions? You keep strange company, friend,” said he.

   “Do you take all your friends captive?” you asked, unable to hold your tongue. The elf smiled.

   “Only the ones who trespass in my father's realm.” Your heart sank. Of all the people to be mouthy to, you had to choose an elf prince. You knew of King Thranduil, though you had never had the good fortune of meeting him personally. Though now it looked as if you would, even if the circumstances were a bit unorthodox.

   “Will you father wish to see us then?” you questioned, deciding to play nice.

   “I'm sure he will. He doesn't like his feasts being disturbed, especially three times and by these bumbling dwarves.” You nodded.

   “Then we should make haste, should we not?”

   “Indeed. This way,” he said, taking you by the arm and leading you ahead of everyone else. “I am Legolas, by the way,” he said, finally introducing himself. You rolled your eyes. He cleared his throat and continued. “My father may look more mercifully on you since you are of elf-kind. You need not keep such company as this in our great halls.” You turned to look at him sharply, your eyes narrowing.

   “I would not desert my friends! I see how you treat yours and these 'bumbling dwarves', as you put it, are far better company that you lot,” you said, turning your nose up at his proposal. He took on an air of arrogance.

   “As you wish. Your fate shall be the same as theirs.” The rest of the journey to the halls of Mirkwood was silent. You did not regret your decision to decline Legolas's offer. After all, you'd signed the contract the same as everyone else in the Company. It wouldn't sit well with your conscience to abandon them now, especially when they were exhausted and starving. However, when entering the halls, you began to feel that maybe negotiating some sort of deal with the elf prince may not have been such a bad idea. The interior was spacious and made one's head spin with its enormity. Your footsteps echoes throughout the hall, only enhancing the sensation. Before you knew it, you were before the Elvenking himself. For a first impression, he made a very good one. He was clad in silver and wore a crown of leaves and berries as he lounged on his throne. His long, pale locks cascaded down past his shoulders and his piercing grey eyes fixated on you. He had an almost puzzled look about him, though he was very good at wiping it clean from his features and looking regal and unamused by the intrusion.

   “Bring them forth,” he said, beckoning with one elegant hand. The elves marched your forward so that you were before him. He looked down at you all and smirked. “What business have you in my realm?” he asked. The dwarves mumbled amongst themselves before an answer was given, though of course, it was a lie. They would not tell him where they were going or why. The Elvenking pressed your group for answers at to why you were here, what your business was, and why you had disturbed his people on three separate occasions. Still, they would not tell him of the quest for Erebor. Eventually, he grew tired of their lies. “Very well. Take them to the dungeons. You can stay there until you decide it is time to tell me of your wanderings,” Thranduil said, and with a wave of his hand, your group began to get dragged away. “Thorin Oakenshield, I will speak with you later. For now, leave the she-elf.” You looked to your friends, a slight fear in your eyes. What did he want with you?

   “Do ye think the lass will be alright with him?” one of them said.

   “Aye, she can hold 'er own,” said another.

   “I don't like the tone of his voice one bit! He sounds as if he's up to something,” chimed in one.

   “Of course he's up to something! He's an elf!” exclaimed another. Their words did no good for your nerves and soon, you were alone. Just the king and you.

   “Tell me, why do you keep such peculiar friends?” he asked, standing from his throne. You gulped and tried to keep your mouth from going dry.

   “We are travel companions. Nothing more.”

   “Why are you traveling with them?”

   “It was a matter of convenience.”

   “Oh?” he remarked, beginning to descend down the steps of this throne. You noticed the way he carried himself. He was nearly dripping with elegance and grace. “Is that so?”

   “Yes, King Thranduil,” you said, looking down at the floor.

   “And where are you traveling to?”

   “No where in particular. I am seeing the world and thought it best not to travel alone,” you lied.

   “And you thought dwarves would be suitable travel companions? Why?”

   “They are loyal, honest people. They would have your back in a pinch and would do anything for one in their troupe.”

   “I see. And would you do anything for them? Perhaps lie?” he questioned, walking your way, his hands behind his back.

   “I have no reason to lie for them,” you replied, looking up at him. His face was a mask of calm.

   “And there you go again. You know, you're not very good at it.” You felt your heart stop.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Lying. You're not very good at lying,” he said, standing before you. From his throne, he didn't look nearly as tall as he was. You didn't meet his gaze.

   “I am not lying,” you insisted.

   “I don't take liars lightly. I will give you one last chance to tell me the truth or you shall be thrown in the dungeon with the rest of that lot. Where are you going?” he asked. You didn't answer. He waited and when you said nothing, he turned. “As I thought. Guards! Take her to the rest of her companions,” he said in a booming voice. You looked up at him, a small amount of hatred in your eyes. He looked over his shoulder at you, his face indifferent as you were dragged off to the dungeons. They were deep into the mountain that his halls were built in. In separate cells you all were kept. Thorin was no where to be found, most likely in a completely different section of these dungeons. After all, he was the ringleader of this quest.

   “So, lass, what'd he say to ye?” Bofur asked. He was only a few cells away. You leaned against the bars, pressing your face against them.

   “He wanted to know where we were going,” you replied.

   “And did you tell him?” Nori asked. He was on the level directly below you.

   “Of course I didn't! I signed the contract the same as all of you. Why would I sell you out? I'd only be doing myself a disservice. And besides, I've grown rather fond of you lot.” There were a few cheers from the surrounding cells.

   “She sounds more like a dwarf every day!” exclaimed Fili, who was the farthest away from you.

   “Though he did have every right to throw us in here. After all, we were trespassing.”

   “He's a bastard, that Thranduil!” shouted Bombur.

   “He _is_ a bastard, but he's right. You can't argue that.” There were grumbles of agreement and some of disagreement as expected.

   “Truer words were not spoken today, Y/N,” Balin said across the way. There was silence for a little while.

   “Lass, are ye alright?” Dwalin asked. You chuckled.

   “I'm fine, Dwalin. Really, I am. A bit flustered, maybe. But I've been in worse situations. You remember the trolls? And the goblins? And the spiders? All of that was far worse than this. At least here we have shelter and food, even if we are trapped.” They grumbled agreement and then all was quiet until Ori broke the silence.

   “Y/N, will you sing us a song?” You smiled.

   “Of course. What would you like to hear?” you asked.

   “Sing us a lullaby. I could use something to help me nod off in this dump,” Kili said.

   “Alright, a lullaby. Let me think of one,” you said as you racked your brain. Finally you thought of one, [a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFp9qGtqrbw) your mother used to sing to you when you were having trouble sleeping.

 _My heart shall see light_  
_hön'marën kena-uva kala_  
  
_Our hearts shall be forever_  
_indönya ullumeá_  
  
_Go forth, rest in dreamland_  
_nör'ande sëra mi lorien_  
  
_I'll soon be there_  
_îm'eri ratö naya_  
  
_Wait for me my love_  
_larya nîn mëlissè_  
  
_You know I'm here_  
_le sinte îma sinomë_  
  
_To join you in dreams_  
_ána sama lemî oloorë_  
  
_You have nothing to fear_  
_le ar'uunèr ana kaurë_  
  
_Fiery sun, begone_  
_uur'anor wannëa_  
  
_Moonlight, protect us,_  
_isilme va'arya_  
  
_Heaven's star, shine through,_  
_telume siila tere_  
  
_Flame of hell, vanish_  
_na'are utumno wanya_  
  
_Lonely voice, cold and bare_  
_erüma, helkàda_  
  
_Wandering alone,_  
_raanè ressè_  
  
_Asleep, yet awake_  
_lörna à'kuilä_  
  
_Safe in dreams_  
_Vàrna mi'olör_  
  
_Shelter from the storm_  
_türma ei ràumo_  
  
_Here_  
_Sinomë_

   When you finished your song, you heard snoring all around you. Peering about as best you could, you could see that some of your friends were leaning their heads against the bars of the cells, snoring away. You smiled. It seemed your lullaby did the trick. A flash of movement caught your eye and you looked up to the right. There, standing on the utmost level of the dungeon was Thranduil. Had he heard you? He looked at your briefly before he disappeared. You waited a few moments but he didn't return. Eventually, you began to feel the fatigue of days without food or water or proper sleep. Going to the corner of your cell, you slumped against the wall and curled up on your bedroll, falling fast asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping both Mirkwood and the dragon Smaug, the reader finds herself in Thranduil's company all too soon.

   “Are you sure you won't come with us? We could really use your help,” Fili said, leaning against the boat. You nodded.

   “I think my skills could be more useful here. When my work here is done, I will rejoin you. And you'd better save me a share of that treasure,” you teased, smiling.

   “Of course. You've more than earned it. I look forward to your coming,” he replied. “Kili!” he shouted at his brother, who was fawning over that elf maiden he'd seen in Mirkwood. You looked at the two and smiled wistfully. How nice it must be to be in love. Sometimes you wished you could find another to share those feelings with, but when it came right down to it, you hadn't the time nor the patience for romance. It just seemed like a nice thing to have. You waved goodbye to your friends as they departed for the Lonely Mountain, a small part of you wished you were going with them. Soon after, you set to work tending to the sick and the wounded. Being of Rivendell, you had a knack for healing. You treated everyone with patience and kindness, earning. In addition to that, you also kept the kids from getting in the way. They were a rowdy bunch, but once you showed them one of your favorite elvish games as a child, they did nothing but play it. It kept them busy and out of sight, which made caring for those in need much easier. Eventually, Bard came to you with the decision that they would be making the journey to the ruins of Dale since the weather was only getting colder and they needed a place that was better suited for housing people. Of course, you agreed to come with. Your friends were in the mountain, after all, and you desperately wanted to see them again. Soon enough, you were off. Though the road was hard for most, you finally reached your destination and set up camp by nightfall. From the ruins of the once great city, you could see a twinkling or two from the Lonely Mountain. You smiled, knowing your friends were alright. Come the next day, people were in somewhat poorer spirits. There was little food to be had and many were losing hope. You felt powerless and had half a mind to ask your companions for help with this predicament when away to the west came aid. You were quite surprised to find King Thranduil leading many carts full of provisions and other essentials for the people of Laketown. You stayed out of sight as he passed through the streets, the crowds cheering and praising his good name. You didn't wish to catch his eye as you had previously in Mirkwood. The last time you had spoken to him, he'd imprisoned you and that doesn't leave a very good impression on anyone. You kept out of sight the entire day, making sure you were nowhere near him at any point. Soon, night fell and you were sure you'd be safe from his eyes. You crept off to your tent, but as you did, you spotted your good friend Bilbo coming your way with a determined look on his face. He looked quite wet as well. You rushed toward him, a smile on your face. “Bilbo!” you said happily, bending down to give the soggy fellow a hug. “What are you doing here? Is the rest of the Company with you?” you asked, peering around him hopefully. He shook his head.

   “I'm afraid not, Y/N. I'm here on my own on urgent business. I can't stay and chat. I must speak with Bard immediately,” he said. He seemed to be clutching something to his chest.

   “Why's that? And what have you got there?” you inquired, pointing to his chest. He seemed reluctant to tell you. “Oh, come on, Bilbo! I'm your friend! I'm only curious as to why you're here in the middle of the night, wet from head to toe, with a strange parcel in your possession.” The hobbit sighed and began to unwrap what he held.

   “It's the Arkenstone,” he said, letting the gem glint in the moonlight. Your eyes widened as you stared at the marvelous treasure.

   “It's beautiful. But why do you have it?”

   “I need to make a bargain and this is the only thing that will do the trick. I really don't have much time to explain, so if you'll excuse me,” he said, rewrapping it and pushing past you. You watched him go off and, after debating on whether or not you should follow, you walked after him. Bard was your friend, too, and you were curious as to what the little hobbit had to say to him and why he needed such a precious treasure to bargain with. You soon found yourself outside a large tent, inside being Bard, Gandalf, Bilbo, and Thranduil. You groaned quietly, wishing you weren't so close to the Elvenking. Standing just far enough away to be unnoticed, you listened in to their conversation. It seemed Thorin had refused negotiations with Bard and Thranduil earlier in the day. How strange. It appeared that he was refusing to give some of the treasure of Erebor to the needy people of Laketown. You thought that sounded very unlike Thorin. He was a generous dwarf and would not go back on his word. This did not sound like the Thorin you knew and had come to call friend. Now, as it were, Bilbo had come to negotiate a trade: the Arkenstone for some of Erebor's riches. Bilbo explained how much the gem meant to Thorin and that he would do anything to have it returned to him. That seemed like sound logic to you, though it saddened you that Bilbo, Thorin's closest friend, had to resort to sneaking around at night to solve such a trivial matter. Bilbo soon left the tent, a warm blanket around his shoulders. You caught him by the arm and pulled him toward you.

   “Tell me everything,” you said in a hushed voice and he did. He told you all about Thorin's madness and how he spent all his time fondling the riches of the mountain. He had been searching days for the Arkenstone and was sure someone within the Company had stolen it, though he never suspected Bilbo.

   “I feel terrible hiding it from him, but this is the only way he'll see reason. You understand, don't you?” he asked you. You nodded.

   “Yes. You were very brave tonight, Bilbo. I'm glad to call you friend,” you said with a smile, leaning down to give his head a kiss. He gave a small squeak, then turned beet red. You laughed. “Now, you much hurry back before they notice you're gone. I hope to return to your ranks tomorrow once everything is settled here. Good luck, Bilbo. And make haste!” you said, urging him on. He nodded, his face still flushed, and off he dashed, discarding his blanket along the way. You smiled to yourself. He really was a good little fellow. Beside you, you heard someone clear their throat. You straightened your back and when you turned, you saw Thranduil standing at your side.

   “Good evening,” he said to you. You swallowed.

   “Good evening, King Thranduil,” you replied politely. He smiled faintly.

   “When last we spoke, I did not ask you name,” he said.

   “Y/N,” you replied. “Y/N of Rivendell.”

   “Ah, as I thought. You do act as they do.”

   “Is that a bad thing?” you asked. He chuckled.

   “Certainly not. I find it refreshing. Though you do have a fire about you that is very uncharacteristic of those western elves.”

   “If you say so.” There was silence for a moment.

   “Might we talk?” Thranduil asked, offering you his arm. Out of politeness and slight interest, you put your arm in his. He smiled and began to walk, sipping his wine idly. “I want to apologize for my actions in my kingdom. I acted rashly. Though if I had know what those dwarves were up to, I would have stopped them. All this destruction could have been avoided. However, I am glad that Smaug is dead. He has wrecked havoc in these lands for far too long. These people deserve to live without his constant threat.” You remained silent, listening intently to his words. He glanced at you. “I should not have imprisoned you all as I did. Perhaps a more civil talk would have been more appropriate. I let my anger and distrust of their kind get in the way of my better judgment. I hope you will forgive me.” Thranduil brought his goblet to his lips once more.

   “You acted in the interest of your people and your realm. I do not fault you for that. We were trespassers in your kingdom and would not give you an answer as to why we were there. You did what any king would have done,” you replied, looking straight ahead.

   “Then you agree with my methods?” You smiled.

   “Certainly not, but it is not my place to tell you what you should or should not be doing. I am not a king.” He laughed.

   “No, you most certainly are not. But I do not fault you for that.” You smiled a bit wider.

   “Tell me, King Thranduil, why is it you have so much distrust for dwarves?” He sighed and downed more of his wine.

   “They had wronged my people in the past. Yes, we had been great trading partners many, many years ago, but they are a greedy race. I do not care for greed or anyone who associates themselves with it.”

   “But surely you don't believe them all to be that way! Really, they are a kind and honest people and loyal to any they befriend,” you replied.

   “Thorin Oakenshield befriended Bard the Bowman and yet he went back on his word. Even goblins and orcs would not dare to do such a disservice to one they called 'friend',” he replied.

   “They are not all mad with dragon sickness like Thorin Oakenshield, King Thranduil,” you replied. He stopped and turned to look at you. He wore a sad smile on his face.

   “I do know this. But how can one tell if one will go mad at the sight of so much gold? Even the strongest willed dwarf would find himself tinged with the greed of dragons,” he said. You shook your head.

   “I do not believe that. Forgive my boldness, but I have traveled with these dwarves for many months. I know them well and I know that they would not succumb to the madness that affects Thorin,” said you, looking up into his face sincerely.

   “Very well. Though I do not agree entirely with you, I respect that you have such love for them. It is not many who would stand up for their friends against a king,” he said, smiling faintly. You looked away from him, suddenly embarrassed.

   “It is getting late,” you said at last.

   “Yes, it is.”

   “Goodnight, King Thranduil,” you said, turning to go.

   “I would like to know you better, Y/N,” he said. You smiled, still turned.

   “Perhaps you shall.” Thranduil smiled as well, though you didn't see it.

   “Goodnight,” he said. You walked off to your tent, a strange feeling inside your stomach. Despite his negative way of looking at the world, you had to admit, he was an interesting person. Getting to know him would be an adventure and one you were more than willing to embark on.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader pays a visit to Thranduil on her way back home.

   It had been several months since the Battle of the Five Armies had taken place. The pain of Thorin, Fili, and Kili's deaths still lingered in the halls of Erebor. It was this sorrow that had kept you there so long. That, and your numerous injuries. Originally you had intended to go back with Bilbo and Gandalf, but your injuries kept you at the Lonely Mountain longer than you had anticipated. With a few broken ribs, a fractured hipbone, and a broken arm that you kept banging on everything, you were injured well into the winter and by that time, it didn't make sense to travel. You stayed with your dwarven companions until the spring, when you were finally fit to travel. Your torso still ached where your ribs had been broken and your hip would probably never be the same, but you managed with the aid of a walking stick. You hoped you wouldn't need it for very long. After all, an elf with a walking stick would be a laughing stock, though it could certainly double as a weapon when someone poked fun. After saying your farewells, you were off, a horse laden with supplies and trinkets for the journey home. You didn't dare ride the poor beast as it was burdened enough with the hefty bags of treasure and the almost overflowing packs of food. You walked alongside it, your hand holding the reins in one hand and your walking stick in the other. Having no travel companion was an interesting experience for you now. After all, for the past year you hadn't traveled alone. “Though I suppose I'm not completely alone, huh, Oakensteed?” you said, patting the horse on its neck. The horse had been named as such for its resemblance of the late King Under the Mountain and the name sounded like something Fili or Kili would have come up with. That made you a bit sad; however, it gave you comfort to know that the surviving members of Thorin's Great Company had deemed you worthy of such a steed. The two of you traveled for several days until you reached the edge of Mirkwood. Though a scary place, it was traveled more now than when you'd first passed through. And besides, you had a king to pay a visit to. Even with all the sorrow that had come to pass, you had often thought about what Thranduil had said to you. The fact that he deemed you worthy of future conversations made you almost giddy and that was why you found yourself in the dark forest that day. As you walked along, Oakensteed by your side, you caught a glimpse of movement to your right. “Who goes there?” you asked, stopping and holding your staff in a defensive position. Out of the foliage appeared Legolas, clad in green, his bow drawn. When he saw it was you, he lowered his weapon and approached you, followed by a handful of other elves. He looked at you, partly confused and partly amused, a small smile on his face. You eased yourself out of your fight-like stance. “Oh, it's you,” you said.

   “Y/N, isn't it?” he said in his native tongue. You nodded.

   “You remembered me,” you stated.

   “It is hard to forget someone when they leave such an impression,” he replied, his smile growing wider.

   “A good impression, I hope,” you responded, smiling a bit as well.

   “Perhaps for some. What brings you to the Greenwood?” he asked.

   “I had intended to visit your home on my way back to mine,” you said. He nodded.

   “I see. Come this way,” the elf prince said, leading you along the path toward the halls of the Elvenking. You wondered if you had been expected. Surely you must have been to some degree. After all, when else could Thranduil have expected to better acquaint himself with you? “Why do you carry that stick?” he asked, gesturing toward your walking stick. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

   “I was injured badly in combat,” you replied shortly. He glanced your way, an apologetic look on his face.

   “I'm sorry,” Legolas said. “It was foolish of me to ask.” You were a bit shocked by his words. You'd thought him to be an arrogant child with little regard to the sufferings of others. It appeared that you'd misjudged his character. “That was a very brutal fight. I lost many of my kin that day. It has pained my father greatly as well. Though I imagine your visit may lift his spirits some,” he said, giving you a sly smirk. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop yourself.

   “Is that so?” you asked, unamused by his comment and accompanying smirk. He didn't say any more and the rest of your journey was in silence. You remembered the first time he'd come upon you in these woods and how the circumstances were rather similar. As you entered those same halls, you were struck with how large it was yet again. One of the elves that had been with Legolas took your horse and led the beast to the stables that were not too far off.

   “Follow me. I'll show you to his study,” the elf prince said.

   “Were you expecting me?” you asked, your eyes everywhere, but in front of you. Many tapestries hung on the walls as well as mounted antlers and other adornments. Torches lined the corridors every few paces, the flames flickering against the stone.

   “Not entirely. Of course, we knew you'd come; we just didn't know when,” he replied, stopping in front of a large set of oak doors. “This is his private study. He spends much of his time here. I figured it would be a better setting to greet him than in his throne room,” Legolas said, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let you in. There was a small fire in the fireplace across the room and many shelves of books filled the walls from floor to ceiling. You stepped inside, gazing at the numerous volumes. You wondered idly what he liked to read when he wasn't off being a king.

   “Are you sure this will be alright? I don't want to impose,” you said, turning to look at him. Legolas smiled.

   “It won't be a problem. My father receives many of his guests here. He'll be along shortly. Until next time,” he said before closing the door behind you. You took a deep breath and let it out as you sat on one of the settees by the fireplace, waiting patiently. You couldn't help but feel a little out of place here. In fact, you felt positively ordinary next to all this grandeur. You'd never been anything more than a simple elf in Rivendell, but here, you were a requested guest of the king. True, your visit had been unannounced and a bit spur of the moment, but he still had been expecting you. You chuckled to yourself. It was almost as if he knew you would come.

   “He's rather full of himself, isn't he?” you said softly, adjusting yourself in your seat and staring into the fire.

   “Who is?” came a voice from the door. You looked up, startled. You hadn't heard the door open whatsoever. Standing in the doorway was Thranduil, clad in a long, elegant red robe, his hair down and curling slightly at the ends. He wore neither crown nor circlet, though he still managed to look regal as ever.

   “Forgive me, King Thranduil. I didn't hear you come in,” you replied, rising to greet him. He waved his hand.

   “You mustn't address me so formally. You are a friend, and friends do not use such formalities. Please, have a seat. There's no need to stand. You are a guest,” he said, gesturing to the settee and closing the door. You sat back down, you hands in your lap. He walked over to the sideboard where a bottle of wine sat beside a few glasses. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, pouring himself a glass.

   “That would be lovely, thank you,” you replied, watching him intently. He smiled as he poured the red liquid into the crystal glass, the light of the fire reflecting off its many facets. Thranduil moved to your side, handing your glass to you. You looked up at him almost shyly, a small “thank you” barely passing between your lips. As he moved to sit across from you, you could hardly take your eyes off of him. He moved with such grace and dignity. It was almost mesmerizing.

   “Why do you watch me so?” he asked, taking his glass in hand and sipping the wine idly. You sat up straighter, aware that you had been staring. A small blush of embarrassment crept over your cheeks.

   “My apologies. I hadn't meant to stare,” you replied, fidgeting in your seat slightly. He peered over the rim of his glass at you and you could see his amused smirk.

   “It's quite alright. Many I meet do tend to stare, but not so intently as you have. Do I have something on my face?” he asked, his tone far too innocent. What a tease.

   “No, not at all. I must have been too absorbed with my thoughts,” you said, peering about the room. Two could play at this game.

   “Am I really that dull?” he asked, taking another sip of wine. You suppressed a chuckle and bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling.

   “Oh, yes. Exceptionally dull,” you replied, looking back at him. He smiled widely and laughed.

   “Then I suppose I should change tactics since boring isn't working for you,” Thranduil said. You smiled and took a sip of your wine, leaning forward and looking him dead in the eye.

   “I'll let you in on a little secret,” you said in a low voice. He too leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees.

   “And what is that?” he replied in a similarly low voice, a smirk on his face.

   “I quite like boring.”

   “Is that so? Well, then I'll be sure to be extremely dull from now on,” he replied, chuckling and leaning back. His one arm was draped over the back of the settee and his legs were crossed. He looked so at ease. You chuckled as well, straightening up and taking another sip from your glass.

   “You know, this wine is quite good,” you said, taking yet another sip. He nodded your way.

   “Yes, it's my favorite.”

   “Is this the same one I've had before?” you inquired before bringing the glass to your lips again.

   “It is. I generally bring it with me when I travel, though that isn't very often. It reminds me of home,” he said, finishing his glass. “Another glass?” he asked, raising to refill his.

   “Yes, please,” you said, downing the rest of yours. He walked over to you and took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. You felt your cheeks grow slightly warmer at his touch and you looked down at your lap, embarrassed yet again. Why was it so easy for you to go from being slightly cocky and conversational to shy and easily flustered in the blink of an eye? You heard the clink of glass as he poured more of the wine and you tried to make your flushed appearance less noticeable.

   “There you go,” he said, handing you your glass and setting the bottle down on the table before sitting beside you.

   “Thank you,” you replied, scooting over a bit. “I see you brought the bottle.” He chuckled.

   “Yes, well, I didn't want to have to get up again.” You chuckled as well and sipped at your beverage.

   “This keeps tasting better and better after every sip,” you remarked. He nodded and smiled, drinking his own.

   “It has that effect. I serve it at parties for that very reason. It keeps everyone happy.”

   “Since when did 'happy' and 'drunk' become synonyms?” you asked. He looked your way with a smirk.

   “Why, they've always been synonyms. At least to me,” he said. You both laughed heartily at the small joke. You felt a somewhat sharp pain in your abdomen as you did and you hand immediately held at your rib cage where you'd broken several of them, wincing softly. The Elvenking noticed immediately and all humor left his features. “Are you alright?” he asked. You nodded.

   “I'm fine. Only a few sore ribs is all. I'm still on the mend,” you replied, taking another swig of wine.

   “I understand. Were you badly injured during the battle?” he inquired, leaning back as he had before, idly sipping his drink.

   “Not as bad as some. I made it out with only a few broken ribs, a fractured hipbone, and a broken arm. It took the longest time for my arm to heal, though. I kept banging it on everything in sight,” you said, a small smile on your face. He nodded.

   “Well, I'm glad to see you have mended well enough to travel,” Thranduil said.

   “Yes. I was looking forward to going home.”

   “And getting out of the mountain, I'm sure.” You laughed.

   “Indeed. Though I do love my dwarven companions, I yearned for my elven kin and home. There's nothing quite like home, you know,” you said thoughtfully, sipping more of your wine.

   “I agree entirely,” he said. “Speaking of home, how long do you intend to stay here before you return?”

   “Only a few days, a week at most.”

   “I see. Well, we'll have to be sure to have plenty of fun before you return. I want to make this visit better than the last one,” he said with a smile. The two of you laughed.

   “Yes, that would be preferred.”

   The two of you talked like that for awhile, mostly about doings in the world after the death of Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies as it was called. Of course, the topic of conversation changed over time as the two of you consumed more of his fine wine. You found yourself growing bolder as well as his questions. “You must sing that song again,” he said, finishing his sixth or seventh glass of wine. You could quite be certain how much he'd drank. The bottle was nearly empty, so maybe it was more. But then again, you'd consumed an awful lot as well. You felt like your cheeks were on fire, but you couldn't care less.

   “What song?” you asked, sipping at your wine.

   “The one you sang in my dungeons. The lullaby.”

   “So you _were_ listening! I knew I saw you out of the corner of my eye!” you exclaimed, pointing at him. He laughed outright, throwing his head back.

   “I had no idea you could see me! I thought I was well out of your line of vision. You very keen eyes, Y/N,” he said, pouring a fresh glass for himself. You blushed at his compliment, though your smart mouth kept you from being overly bashful.

   “No, you're just awful at hiding!” That sent you two into another fit of giggles. Once you'd caught your breath and stopped holding your aching ribs, you drank more of your wine.

   “I was serious about the song, though. The song is beautiful and you have such a lovely voice,” he said.

   “You know, flattery will get you everywhere,” you said, a matter-of-fact look on your face.

   “Everywhere?” he questioned, leaning forward. You could feel your face growing hot as he gazed at you intently. Your cheeks must have been bright red from the wine and his compliments and his piercing gaze. You stared into his deep grey eyes, your train of thought all but gone. Your eyes darted down to his slightly parted lips and your heart all but stopped. Quickly, you looked back up into his eyes and wished you hadn't. They held you there, immobile and helpless. He leaned closer to you and softly pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. His lips were so soft and he tasted heavily of wine. You were so surprised by his action that it took you a moment to process everything. When you finally regained your senses enough to react, he pulled from you, his own cheeks flushed lightly. He looked so embarrassed and it was quite possibly the cutest thing you'd ever seen in your entire life. You fingers touched your lips where his had been as you looked at him. “I'm sorry,” he said, looking at you apologetically. “That was very forward of me. I suppose the wine has gone to my head.” You smiled, your hand coming to rest on your chest.

   “May I be frank?”

   “Please,” he said, still embarrassed.

   “I quite like forward. In fact, I'd very much like for you to be forward with me again.” Now he smiled, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

   “If the lady insists...” he trailed off.

   “Oh, I do,” you said, leaning forward. This time you didn't find yourself at such a loss. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you kissed him softly as he had done to you. Thranduil smiled against your lips and returned your kisses with vigor. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again and again, as if his very life depended on it. When you pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Your kisses are much like your wine,” you remarked, an almost smug smile on your face.

   “How so?” he asked.

   “They keep getting better and better with each one.” He laughed and kissed you again.

   “I think the wine has gone to your head as well.”

   “Mm, I think you're right.” There was a small moment of silence before he spoke.

   “Won't you stay longer? A week isn't nearly enough time,” he said.

   “If this is how you treat your guests, I don't think I would ever want to leave.” Thranduil chuckled at your remark.

   “So you'll stay?”

   “I will.”

   “I'm glad,” he replied, kissing you again. You smiled and kissed him back. Already you had made up your mind to stay more than a week. Your conversation that evening had been most enlightening and you found his company very enjoyable. He was not the person you thought he was. And that thought made you all the more encouraged to stay.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader suspects Thranduil of keeping something from her and is determined to find out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meleth nin - my love  
> melethril nin - my lover

   A few weeks turned into a few months and before you knew it, it was winter. A little over a year had passed since the Battle of the Five armies. You'd all but healed at this point, your ribs finally back to normal. Your hip gave you problems every now and again, but you could walk about without the walking stick, and for that, you were grateful. You'd stayed much longer than you'd intended, though to say it was entirely your fault would be a lie. Thranduil had insisted you stay as long as you liked, encouraging you to stay for the many parties, feasts, and festivals he held within his realm. You suspected he had arranged these events in an attempt to keep you from going home. It worked like a charm and you found yourself practically living in Mirkwood. You'd sent word to your kin in Rivendell, telling them that you weren't dead and would be returning home once spring came. You felt a little guilty for staying away from home so long. It would be two years come the following June and you were sure there were some that were worried sick about you. Unfortunately for them, they would have to wait since a certain king had deemed it fit you stay in his kingdom for a very large amount of time. At this point, you felt as though you were a permanent fixture in the halls of the Elvenking and you were sure there were others who felt the same. Thranduil, for one, obviously liked having you around. You two had become lovers of sorts in these past few months. When he wasn't off attending to his kingly duties, he was with you. You rather enjoyed his company and after having known him for nearly a year, you realized that you had feelings for him. That night when he kissed you for the first time, you hadn't been quite sure. You'd assumed the wine had gone to your head and you were just reacting the way your body wanted you to. After all, he was a devilishly handsome elf. He could make just about anyone swoon, regardless of gender or marital status. But, as the months went by, you came to know him better and eventually, you fell for him and he for you. You'd come to know him well and could tell when something was bothering him. As it was, you'd noticed that he had been rather distant these past few days, as if he were hiding something. What, you couldn't be sure of, but the fact that he wasn't his usual self made you slightly uneasy. It worried you to see him this way. You tried countless times to get him to tell you what was on his mind, but he would never say. Thranduil would brush it off as if it was nothing to be worried about. He'd smile his reassuring smile and kiss your head, telling you that nothing was amiss. Of course, that was utter nonsense. By now, you knew when he was keeping something from you. He didn't do it often, and usually it was a surprise of sorts, but the charade only lasted a few days at most. This had been going on for a week, maybe longer, so you could only assume it was something serious. Finally, you'd had enough. If he wasn't going to tell you of his own free will, you were going to make him tell you. Sometime in the afternoon, you went in search of him. By this time, he usually finished up his duties as king and would be coming to find you. You'd planned to find him first. Spotting one of his personal servants in the hall, you stopped them and pulled them to the side. “Do you happen to know where King Thranduil is?” you inquired, doing you best to look as innocent as possible.

   “He was just in the throne room, my lady,” they replied. You nodded and smiled.

   “Thank you,” you said before walking off. If he were in the throne room, he must have had an audience with someone. Perhaps one of the wealthier lords in the realm. Maybe one of them was the cause of his distress, though that seemed unlikely. Thranduil was not easily swayed or intimidated by anyone, especially his kin. You sighed and hurried along the corridor. The more you seemed to learn about this issue, the more worried you became. When you finally reached the outskirts of the throne room, you peeked in to make sure he was alone. Looking in, you saw that he wasn't. You ducked back out of sight and, though you didn't want to eavesdrop, you heard the last part of their conversation.

   “And is it done?”

   “Yes, my lord.”

   “Let me see.” There was a pause in the conversation and you wanted to look, but knew that if you did, you'd most likely be caught. “Perfect. Very well. I will tell her today. Thank you,” said Thranduil.

   “Of course, my lord.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the vast room as the other person walked away. After you thought the coast was clear, you emerged from your hiding spot and waltzed into the room.

   “Good afternoon, meleth nin,” you said, walking toward Thranduil with a smile. He turned to see you and smiled as well, his one hand behind his back and the other outstretched toward you.

   “Y/N,” he said, his eyes lighting up. You came close to him and he wrapped his one arm around you, leaning down to kiss your head. “I was just about to come for you.”

   “Well, I wanted to meet you before you found me,” you said, looking up at him.

   “Oh? And why is that?” he asked.

   “I wanted to talk to you about what you've been keeping from me,” you replied bluntly.

   “I'm not keeping anything from you,” he said, not missing a beat.

   “You are. You cannot lie to me. I know when you are lying and it is very irritating. Now, you can either tell me what you've been so secretive about or I shall have to make you tell me,” you said. He chuckled.

   “I've nothing to hide, melethril nin.”

   “Then who was that you were just speaking with?” Silence was his answer as his eyes went to the ground. “I am waiting,” you said after a moment. He took a deep breath and looked you in the face.

   “The jeweler,” he said.

   “And why are you speaking with a jeweler? You aren't having another trinket made for me, are you? Because I have plenty of them and don't need anymore.”

   “I had two rings made,” he said.

   “Whatever for? I think the rings you have are quite fine,” you said, slightly puzzled. He pulled the hand he had kept behind his back forward, revealing a small box.

   “Well, one of them is for me. The other was intended for you,” the Elvenking said. You looked up at him quizzically.

   “What do we need rings for?” you asked, completely lost. Why was he having rings made for the both of you? He sighed, a slightly exasperated look coming over him.

   “I'd assumed the reason would be quite obvious,” he replied, his brows knit together in slight frustration.

   “Perhaps to you, but not to me. I don't need anymore jewelry, so why did you have rings made?” you replied, growing somewhat agitated by this conversation. He was being so terribly vague and it irritated you to no end. He shook his head and sighed, smiling down at you.

   “You really are quite dense, meleth nin,” Thranduil said, patting you on the head. You looked up at him with an irritated, puzzled look.

   “I am missing something here,” you said slowly, unsure of what he was getting at. He gave you a look and then it came to you. You felt like such an idiot, but also you became extremely nervous. Thranduil smiled at you gently as he saw the look of realization on your face.

   “I intend to make you my wife, Y/N,” he said. “Now, I know this is all quite sudden and that the usual methods of courtship have not been in place, but I feel so strongly for you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and only you. Will you accept this ring and marry me?” You were shocked, naturally, but also filled with happiness. Never had you dreamed of marrying someone as wonderful as him. You smiled broadly, small tears dotting the bottom of your eye as you nodded.

   “Yes, I will marry you,” you said, clutching at your chest where your heart was threatening to burst out of your ribcage. Thranduil smiled at you and immediately wrapped his arms about you, hugging you to him and spinning you around the room. You laughed between the tears of joy and clung to him. You'd never been happier in all your life.

   “I'm so glad,” he said once he put you down, cradling your head to his chest. You held him tightly, your eyes closed and a smile on your face.

   “Did you doubt I'd say yes?” you inquired.

   “Yes,” he responded a bit sheepishly. You opened your eyes and peered up at him with a shocked expression.

   “You know how much I care for you and yet you still thought there was a chance I'd say no?”

   “Yes,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

   “You're a bigger fool that I thought you were,” you replied, laying your head back down on his chest. “But you're my fool now.” Thranduil chuckled and you held him tighter, enjoying the sound and feel of his laughter against your ear.

   “You should wear this now. I want everyone to know that we are to be wed,” he said, pulling one of the silver rings from the box. He drew your hand in his and placed the ring on your finger. “There.” He looked so happy seeing the simple band on your finger. You grabbed the box from him and withdrew the other ring from it and placed it on his finger.

   “Now we match,” you said, chuckling and reaching up to give him a kiss.

   “Now we match,” he echoed with a smile.

   “I suppose I should send word to my kin in Rivendell of our betrothal. I'm sure there are a few of them that would wish to attend the wedding,” you said, looking up at him.

   “Yes, though we still have much to discuss. We've yet to have the customary meeting of our houses to discuss dates and whatnot. Perhaps it would be best to meet in Imladris. After all, you haven't seen your home in a very long time,” Thranduil suggested. You beamed up at him, excitement growing inside of you.

   “That would be perfect! We can leave as soon as the snow melts. Oh, I cannot wait!” you exclaimed, hugging him tightly. It was true that you could hardly wait because the sooner you had the meeting, the sooner the two of you would wed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the elvish customs of marriage are a bit stretched, but I tried to stay as true as possible to what Tolkien has written about them.


End file.
